Fate could decide for me now.

FORTY-TWODAISY

I stepped outside and could see Kye immediately. He leaned against his car, his head all the way back to look up at the dark sky. A puff of smoke blew through his lips, and my nose scrunched.

“Still smoking?” I asked, hands on hips.

He didn’t move, not even lifting his head to look at me.

“Would you believe it if I said this was the first cigarette I’ve had in over six years? The last one I ever had, I shared with you.”

The memory of being pressed against his body, his hand around my neck and lips on my skin, burned through me. I was already so worked up from dancing together that even the thought of his hands on me again turned me on.

“Why are you breaking and having one now?”

“Because I need something, anything, to occupy my hands before I lose my self-control and put them on you.”

“Have you ever had self-control?”

He laughed, stepping closer. “I like to think it’s gotten better with age. I tend to think before I act now. At least sometimes.”

“Really? I kind of liked it when you lost all control with me.”

He came closer, but I stepped around him, moving until we traded places and my back was against his driver’s door.

I smiled as he turned back to me.

“I want to ask what game you are playing, but I’m worried if I know I will want to play along,” he said.

“And you can’t?”

“I have to keep reminding myself that you have a boyfriend, and I do not play games with other guys’ girlfriends.”

“And if I didn’t have one?”

He took a long drag of the smoke and threw it down to stomp it out.

In one step he was nearly against me, the heat of him rolling over me like a blanket. 

“I would put your hands on me first. I miss the sheer ecstasy that comes over me when your hands are on me. I miss your body on mine,” he said, the quiet rasp of his voice making my legs weak.

“Just my body? Not me?”

“Missing you is a given. I’ve missed you every fucking day, but missing your body is different. I’ve never missed anyone’s hands on me,” he said, leaning in, his eyes heavy as he looked over my face. “Or the way your body wraps around mine, how you say my name, how you get me off. I miss the slutty things you tell me when you come undone,” he added with a smirk.

“Slutty?”

“Yes, and I loved every second of it. Even the thought of ever getting to hear those words on your lips again turns me on.”

I looked down, my thighs clenching as I saw the outline of his hard cock. 

“Kye,” I said, breathless as my heart rate picked up. His hand reached to my chin, his thumb moving over my lower lip. I only closed my eyes, trying to memorize the feeling. 

“Do you talk like that for Mark? Do you tell every guy how bad you want fucked? How you like it so hard, it hurts? How you want others to watch you get licked and fucked until they are burning with jealousy?”

My chest heaved, and my wetness soaked through my underwear. I was falling apart and didn’t want to stop it. The type of inner thoughts I hadn’t told anyone since him.

“No,” I finally said. “I don’t tell anyone else those thoughts. Have you been able to sleep with other women?”

He stepped against me now, his thumb still moving over my bottom lip.

“No. These lips were the last ones wrapped around my cock. Your body is the last one I sunk into. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so fucking hard, but even if I’ve gotten better about being touched, yours are still the only hands I want on me.”

My heart somehow broke and leapt at the same time. I ran a hand down his side, brushing over his cock, and tried not to linger, even when I wanted to. He pressed against me with a groan, the pants the only thing between us.

“Please stop,” he said, his throat tight.

“I thought you said you wanted my hands on you,” I whispered, moving over his length again.

He grabbed my wrists, holding them tight as he pulled them up.

“I did. I do, but you are still with Mark, and I can’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Why? Are you just trying to sleep with me so you can leave for another six years?”

He didn’t move, barely took a breath as he stared at me. “Do you really think I wanted to leave?”

“I did, but then yesterday, I talked to my dad. Well, I fought with him. He told me that he told you to leave or else you and the crew would face charges from Dean. I would have done something, Kye. I would have told them what Dean did.”

“It didn’t matter. I wasn’t only defending you at that point, Daze. I was hunting him down to kill him. I followed him. Your dad was right. Even if you pressed charges, mine would be a lot worse. And worse than that, you were there. They could have grouped you in and you would have been kicked out of school. The crew could have faced charges. It would have been a mess.”

“But why did you stay away?” I asked, the tears already threatening to fall. “You could have come back after a little while. Come back to me, at least.”

“Because I was the problem. Not you. Me. And I couldn’t ruin your life more.”

“That’s not true.”

“At the time, it was for me. I grew up believing I was the problem and terrible things followed me everywhere. Then I find you, and you have this perfect life, and in a matter of months, I’m ruining it. Every time something bad happened, I was there. It was hard not to see a way that it wasn’t my fault.”

“But now you realize that’s bullshit? That it was Dean’s fault and not yours? Because you seem to have made sure I didn’t do that to Bailey, so when did you realize you aren’t the problem in all of this?”

“I’ve been to a lot of therapy, and I would love to say that fixed me. That I’ve been living in bliss of not being a problem, but none of that fixed my brain.”

“Then how are you recognizing it now?”

“Because of Bailey. There’s not one fucking thing wrong with her, but she’s going to be told there is. She’s going to be told she’s too much to handle and deal with. I’m sure it isn’t going to go away as she gets older. Honestly, it might get a hell of a lot worse.”

“Are you saying you just realized this?”